


Determined

by IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Humor, Arminianism, Determinism, Draco Malfoy is Clueless About Muggle Things, Draco Malfoy is a Brat, Existential Crisis, F/M, Group Marriage, Meta, Muggle Studies, OOC, Pining Severus Snape, Self-aware fictional characters, Severus Snape Lives, Smart Ron Weasley, What is real?, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis/pseuds/IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis
Summary: Does Severus have a third Mastery in Pining? Because it takes real talent to pine for someone who is right there in bed with you.How does Ron know so much about Muggle religions?And has Draco uncovered the secret behind the Marriage Law?A month ago, Draco, Ron, and Severus were all forced to marry Hermione. Can their fictional marriage survive the revelation that it is fictional? Or is this just an ordinary existential crisis?After all, who hasn't looked in the mirror and asked, "Am I real? What is real, anyway?"





	Determined

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the Harry Potter characters or story, etc etc. I'm making no money off of this, and making no claims to canonicity, so suing me seems really unneccessary. 
> 
> All my thanks to JK Rowling for constructing this excellent sandbox.
> 
> Update:  
> 3 September 2019 - cleaned up the formatting, and clarified a few minor plot points.

It was Severus’ night. He was not best pleased. You would think that an evening in with his wife would have lifted his mood, but if anything, it worsened it. He would never have tried to get Hermione’s attention – any fool could see that she was destined to end up with either Draco or Weasley. And now, thanks to the infinite inanity of the Wizengamot, she was bound to him for life – as well as to the two men she was most likely to have chosen over him. It was a nightmare.

It had been Hermione who had saved him in the Shrieking Shack, competent and efficient even with her eyes full of tears. She was crying over _him_ , the traitor who had killed Dumbledore. She was determined to save _him_. For the first time, Severus saw what he had not allowed himself to see when he was her professor: a beautiful and compassionate young woman who could keep up with him intellectually. A woman he could grow to love. She gave him something to fight for, and that saved him as much as her emergency potions supply and her quick thinking.

That had been five years ago. It had been less than a month since the bonding ceremony between Hermione and her three new husbands. He couldn’t help but think that the Marriage Law had ruined his life. If he had thought moping over Hermione was bad before, now he had the privilege of moping over her when she was in the same room.  
Said object of desire was currently standing at the foot of the bed, somehow looking both amused and impatient, her unruly hair cascading over her bare shoulders. 

“Severus?” she asked. “What’s on your mind? You know you can share anything with me.”  
“That’s exactly it, though, isn’t it? I am not interested in sharing with anyone.”  
Hermione crawled onto the bed and laid down against Severus, laying her hand on his chest.  
“I can’t imagine how hard it was, having to occlude constantly for so many years...” 

Severus huffed impatiently, and rolled over, turning his back to Hermione. “That is not what I meant at all. I do not much care to share _you_ with _the others_. Perhaps it works out fine for you, but I have you in my bed two nights a week, and spend the rest of my time hoping that you’ll manage to avoid having sex in the common areas, and that you will remember the silencing charms.  
“But since it is required by law that you _have relations_ with me twice a week, I suppose we ought to get it over with.”  
With this he rolled over towards Hermione and reached for her.

“Severus! You know it’s not like that, right? I love you!”  
“Yes, yes. And Draco, and Weasley.”  
“Ron.”  
“Weasley. What I know is that you would not be having sex with me if we had not been forced into it by this law.”

Severus continued, “You know, I find it rather out of character for you to not have fought this marriage law. One of the things that I love about you is that you have always used whatever means – even underhanded means – to fight injustice. And yet you went along with a law that told all of the single Wix in Britain who to marry, on pain of being stripped of their magic. Maybe I don’t know who you are at all.”  
Hermione pulled away, indignant.  
“Maybe I am someone who has always trusted authority. Then this wouldn’t be out of character at all. I find it rather more out of character for you to resist someone controlling your life, rather than just resigning yourself to being buggered by whatever overlord comes along.” 

He would not allow her to manipulate him into an emotional response. It was clear how little she knew him, if she thought that arguing was the way to get him to lose control with her. Angry sex was off the table. Then again, the way tonight was going so far, sex was off the table, period.  
He rolled off the bed, and picked his shirt up off of the chair. He focused on the buttons. Breathe in, breathe out.

“Or. Is it at all possible that, having been freed of both of my masters in such short order, I might have been satisfied to surrender myself to something far more agreeable? Something of my own choosing?”  
_I might have surrendered myself to you, if I had had the courage to ask; if you had had the inclination to accept me._  
“I would have liked a say in my personal life.”

Hermione sighed. “We all would have, I think. I don’t entirely understand the rationale behind the law. It all seemed so sudden. But at least it gave me the opportunity to be with you.”  
Severus sneered. “And Draco. And – _Ron._ ”

A face appeared in the floo. “I think that was the author’s intent.” 

It is not the wisest course of action to startle two battle-hardened Wix. Hermione accio-ed her wand, and pointed it at the floo. Severus was quicker – he was paranoid enough to wear his holster at _literally all times._

Draco walked out of Severus’ floo, and nonchalantly flicked the ash off of his robe, ignoring the two wands still pointed at him.  
Hermione was the first to lower her wand. “Draco. We’ve discussed this. You can’t just floo all over the Manor.”  
He cocked one eyebrow and smirked, “I just did. Besides, if Uncle Sev didn’t shut his floo, then this is not entirely on me, is it?”

Severus growled, “It is _my night_ , Mr. Malfoy.”  
Draco smirked. “And how is that going for you, Uncle Sev?  
“Here you are, once again, denying yourself what you want because you are hung up on having to share Hermione. The author has given you any number of nights with her, and you have bollocksed up this whole narrative with your refusal to _just get on with it_.”

Hermione was confused, and if there was one thing she hated, it was being confused. Draco needling Severus was nothing new. But resorting to - literary criticism? - to do so was an unexpected turn of events.  
“I’m sorry, Draco, but – author? Narrative?”  
“The only explanation for our – situation – is that the author couldn’t decide whether they would rather read about you having sex with me or Ron or Severus (Severus snorted at the idea of anyone wanting to read about him having sex), so they contrived the ‘Marriage Law’ as a literary device to allow for sex scenes with all three of us without making you seem a whore.”  
Severus growled, “Draco!!” and Hermione slapped him. (Draco, not Severus. Not that Severus didn't _almost_ deserve it. Draco simply deserved it _so much more_.)

Under other circumstances, it might have occurred to Hermione to question how Draco knew what she and Severus had been talking about in the (ostensible) privacy of his bed, but her mind was fixed on a more pressing issue.  
“So there are also people out there who want to read about Ginny having sex with Harry _and_ Blaise _and_ Oliver?” She was beginning to think that _she_ might like to read about Ginny having sex with Harry and Blaise and Oliver. Well, maybe not Harry. But definitely Oliver.  
Draco hummed thoughtfully. “If Ginny’s marriage is being written about explicitly, and not simply being alluded to, then yes.”

Severus was unconvinced – and determined to continue to direct the blame for his miserable marriage towards the Ministry, rather than towards some shadowy unknown author.  
“That does not make any sense. If there is an author who is intent on seeing Hermione have sex with each of us, my – “  
“Petulance?” asked Draco.  
Severus glared, “... _stirrings of conscience_ – were not my own at all. The author is in fact the one who has 'bollocksed up,' as you so _articulately_ put it, the story you are postulating.”

“You have a point. Maybe they needed a conflict? Or maybe they get off on angst? Either way, it seems likely that there will be some sort of resolution where you and Hermione get to live 'happily ever after,' but somehow not at the expense of Ron and myself.”  
“Maybe you and Ron will end up together,” Hermione suggested.  
Draco tipped his head and thought about it. That plot twist seemed unlikely, but it _would_ serve the purpose of ending the Malfoy-Weasley feud. 

Severus was not satisfied. “Why are we able to question this now? With this conversation, aren’t we unraveling the author’s supposed pornographic intent? If there is an author, how is it even possible for us to contemplate an author? If the author wants us to just have sex with one another, then why have us enter into a philosophical discussion?”

Hermione smiled, “Perhaps there is a redactor. And perhaps this bit is the work of that redactor.”  
Snape was not used to coming across a word with which he was unfamiliar. It was an unpleasant feeling. But he pushed down his annoyance, and asked, “A redactor?”

As if summoned by the word “redactor,” Ron appeared in the room with a crack.  
Draco frowned. “Apparition should not be possible in the Manor.”  
Hermione muttered, “Continuity issues.”

Ron appeared unperturbed. “A redactor is a kind of editor – specifically, someone who takes the raw material from two or more sources, and recombines it into something new. It is a term that is commonly used in Biblical Studies.”  
Draco was confused, “Whatsical?”  
“Biblical. It’s a muggle religion book. They read their Biblicals in those stone buildings with the pointy turrets.”  
Hermione rolled her eyes. “ _Bibles_ , Ron. The books are called Bibles. ‘Biblical’ means ‘pertaining to the Bible.’ And the ‘pointy turrets’ are called steeples.”  
Ron shrugged. “Ok.”

Then it occurred to Hermione, “And you know about Biblical studies because...?”  
“Oh, you know Dad. All into Muggle things. He decided to take advantage of having so many kids by turning us into a kind of Muggle Studies research team. We each got assigned a specialty. Bill did Muggle science, Charlie Muggle sports, Percy Muggle literature, the twins Muggle TVs and movings, and I got Muggle religion. I’ve been focusing on Christianity, mostly. There’s just too much to learn.”

“And Ginny?” Hermione asked, trying and failing not to blush. She had moved on to thinking about Ginny with Oliver _and_ Blaise, and it was _very_ distracting.  
“Oh. Well, Dad wanted to give her Muggle fashion, but she said that was sexist. She is studying Muggle politics. And Dad of course does Muggle gadgetry. And Mom...”

Snape interrupted. “I think we may be getting off track here.”

Hermione took up the thread. “Right. So. My idea was that there is a redactor – someone who came across source material. Say, stories about the marriage law, both for and against, and maybe stories about me with each of you separately, and perhaps stories with me being married to multiple men, maybe you three, maybe not. And then she –“  
Draco scowled, “Wait. How do you know this supposed redactor is a _she_?”  
“’He’ has been the default for centuries. It seems well past time to default to ‘she’ for balance.”

Snape rolled his eyes (in fondness? in exasperation? Even he did not know.) and sighed. “As you were saying...”  
“ _She_ is then taking these separate stories and stitching together something new to make a point.”  
Ron brightened. “About Jesus!”

Hermione’s lips twitched. She just managed to suppress a laugh. “Not this time, Ron. I think maybe she’s making a point about autonomy? Or, monogamy, or...”  
Draco found his opening. “Or about literature, since we are still talking about it. _They_ are still writing us, right?”

Hermione rolled her eyes (definitely in exasperation.) “You _would be_ in favor of the singular ‘they’ as the solution for a non-gender-specific third-person-singular pronoun.”  
“It’s better than ‘he or she,’ which is both excruciating and unwieldy. And whatever you might wish were the case, no one is going to hear ‘she’ as potentially gender neutral.”

Ron, who had been seemingly staring into space, made a sound of distress. “Wait. Are you saying that we aren’t real?”

Draco rolled his eyes (in fondness, though everyone else in the room interpreted it as exasperation.) “There he is, folks. The favorite husband of the greatest mind in Wix Britain.”  
“That’s not fair! Ron wasn’t here for that bit of the conversation! And anyway, I don’t have a favorite husband.” Hermione protested. She shrank before the side-eye directed her way by all three men.

“Who said I was talking about _you_ , Granger? I’m the one who first realized that our marriage is a mere literary device!”  
Ron interrupted. “Um. Wouldn’t that be Granger-Weasley-Malfoy-Snape? For the purposes of this story, if nothing else.”

Draco grinned. “And _that_ is what makes you my favorite husband, Weasel. No offense, Severus, but there’s only so much snark I can take in a day.”  
“No offense taken on that count, Draco. But I don't know where you get off thinking you are the greatest mind _in this room_ , much less all of Britain. For instance, I am the only living Wix in Britain with two masteries –“  
“Three masteries,” said Draco, “Don’t forget the mastery in pining.”

Hermione’s hair began to crackle. She pulled her wand. “That is _enough_ , Draco. It has been enough. It has reached the point of being too much.”

Severus opened his mouth, likely to say something regrettable, when Ron intervened. “I refuse to believe that I am not real.”  
“What is real?” Severus asked dryly. Ron smiled. Snape was easier to distract than people thought. Show a little vulnerability, throw in a bit of academic debate, and he changed course faster than a shark who had spotted a seal.

Ron persisted. “No, seriously, think about it. If _she_ [Draco muttered, ‘Kiss up,’ under his breath] is writing us, then we only say everything we say because we are written saying it. Does this mean that we exist only in the imagination of the redactor? Or that we do exist, but we don’t have free will? Is this true only for as long as she is writing us? Will we have control over our actions once her story is over? Or do we only exist for this story, and then disappear? Did we exist at all before this story?”

All of the blood drained from Hermione’s face. “Oh my God.” Severus carefully plucked the wand from her hand, as her arm dropped and her grip loosened.  
Ron nodded. “ _Exactly_. If this redactor exists, then _she is_ making a point about God. You think?”

Draco pulled at his hair, a sure sign he was panicking. “Surely we existed before this. I have memories!”  
Snape lifted an eyebrow. “Do you?”  
Was he unperturbed? Or simply throwing fuel on the fire out of some sadistic impulse? Was he pushing the limits out of intellectual curiosity? Or did he lack any sympathy for his godson, who had created the very problem that was troubling him more than anyone else in the room? Yes, yes, yes, and definitely yes.

Hermione hid her face in her hands. “This is depressing.”  
Ron walked over to Hermione and put his hand on her shoulder. “You know what I find helpful when staring down the barrel of determinism? Atheism. Or, you know, Arminianism. I find atheism hard to stomach in large doses.” 

Hermione lifted up her head and beamed at him. “Yes! Ron, you’re a genius!”  
“Always the tone of surprise.”

Draco leaned over to whisper in Severus’ ear. “Arminianism?”  
“Something about freewill being a gift to humanity from the one God, creator of all things.”  
“ _One_ God? Then how do they explain conflict?”  
“Were you not listening to me? Free will.”  
“But –“

Hermione was now standing up, walking back and forth and talking excitedly. “We do not have a writer or a redactor. We are not being determined word for word! We are –“  
Draco was startled by this sudden change of opinion. “And you know this because...”  
“Because it doesn’t _feel true_.”  
“Ok...?”  
“Do you feel like a character, Draco? Can you have thoughts that don’t make it onto the page?”  
“What page?”  
“Yes! Exactly! We were just going through a perfectly natural existential crisis.”

Draco sidled up to Severus again. “Existential?”  
Severus sighed and pinched his nose. “Later.”

Hermione threw on her robe. “Ron and I are going to go have sex now.”  
Severus growled. “Not _now_. You and I have unfinished business.”  
But Hermione was already in the doorway. She turned.  
“That ship has sailed, Love. If you can pull yourself together, I will be back to try again tomorrow night.”  
But she did love Severus, and hated seeing him disappointed. She turned back and laid a hand on his chest.  
“This... existential conundrum has drained me entirely. You and I – it is going to take emotional energy I don’t have. Tonight I need to be with someone uncomplicated.” 

Ron did not look like he took this as an insult. Draco looked like he thought Ron should. 

Hermione withdrew her hand. “And I’d rather have sex with someone who _wants_ to have sex with me, tonight.”  
“I want to have sex with you!” Severus and Draco protested at the same time.  
“You don’t get to, Draco. You are the one who stirred up trouble in the first place, entering into Severus’ room unbidden, talking about ‘the author’s intent.’  
“And Severus, you _don’t_ want to have sex with me – not the real me. You want an unfettered Hermione, and that Hermione does not exist. The real Hermione is a Hermione who is married to you _and to two other men_ , and you have to decide whether you want to have sex with that Hermione. That’s what started this whole thing."

Still talking as she stepped out the door, she threw over her shoulder, “Ron makes me feel wanted and alive.”  
“Or at least he makes you feel like you are not a character in a book,” Draco muttered.

But Hermione didn’t hear him, because she was already halfway to Ron’s room.  
And so she also failed to witness Severus throwing Draco bodily into the fireplace, calling out, ”The Hog’s Head,” and shutting down all of the floos in the Manor as soon as the dunderhead was out of sight.  
It wasn’t as satisfying as having Hermione all to himself, but it was a start.


End file.
